


Crowns of Gold

by octopus_fool



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Flower Crowns, Fluff, Grief/Mourning, M/M, Pre-Slash, could be read as gen - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-05
Updated: 2015-07-05
Packaged: 2018-04-07 20:12:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,234
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4276449
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/octopus_fool/pseuds/octopus_fool
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dwalin decides to make Thorin a flower crown but Thorin insists crowns cannot simply be given.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Crowns of Gold

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the day seven prompt of Dworin week, crown/crowning.

Dwalin carefully chose three of the butter-yellow flowers covering the meadow. The goats were on a different pasture so the dwarflings were using the chance to run wild on the meadow and celebrate that spring had finally come after the long winter. Dwalin paid them no heed and instead concentrated on his flowers. He crossed the stem of the one on the left over the middle one and then moved the one on the right over the middle one. It was just like the braids his Amad had taught him. 

His tongue sticking out of the corner of his mouth, Dwalin added in another flower like the children from Dale had showed him at the spring festival. There. That wasn’t quite as hard as it had looked. Dwalin inspected his work so far and smiled. He continued braiding, adding more flowers as he went along.

The chain of flowers grew, golden blossom intertwined with golden blossom. Dwalin held it up to his head to measure its length occasionally, and before long, he had joined enough flowers together to go around. 

“Dwalin! Where are you?” Thorin came running over the little rise behind which Dwalin was sitting. “We want to play capture the hoard once everyone is out here and I don’t want to play if you’re not on my team! So hurry or Lís will ask all the other good... what are you doing?”

Dwalin carefully tied the stalks to where he had begun the chain.

He looked up at Thorin, whose dark braids fell over sparkling blue eyes and his somewhat sweaty red cheeks. Dwalin once again felt a rush of happiness beyond reason to have Thorin as his best friend. 

Suddenly a whole lot less certain about this, Dwalin got up and held up his creation, not meeting Thorin’s eyes. “I made you a crown. It’s not really from gold, but it’s the best I could do without invading your grandfather’s treasury...”

“Forge hot! That’s for me?”

Dwalin nodded and grinned at his friend. He wanted to hand it to him, but Thorin shook his head.

“You can’t just _give_ somebody a crown. You have to crown me king of this meadow! And then you have to show me how you made it, because you need one too if you are going to rule the meadow with me!”

“Alright,” Dwalin agreed and made a grand gesture at Thorin. “I present to you: Thorin, son of Thráin, son of Thrór! He shall be the new king of this meadow.”

Thorin turned and bowed at the empty meadow, the other dwarflings still hidden by the rise.

“You have to kneel now,” Dwalin whispered and Thorin complied.

“Are you willing to take this oath?”

“I am.”

“Do you promise to rule justly over this meadow, all its inhabitants and its gold, both metal and... um... from weed-like origins?”

“I promise.”

“Well, I declare you king of the meadow. Long live King Thorin the first, ruler of all the dwarflings and dondy- dindol- dindalions in it!”

Thorin grinned at Dwalin and they both let themselves flop into the long grass. “How did you learn to make a crown like this?”

“The children from Dale taught me when my parents took me and Balin there yesterday. You take three flowers with long stem and start braiding them like you braid a standard braid. And when you get to this point, you add another flower. See?”

Thorin nodded and took the beginning of the crown Dwalin handed him. Dwalin watched as Thorin added more and more flowers to the crown. 

“Come here, let me see if it fits you yet,” Thorin said after a while and Dwalin was happy to comply. 

Thorin added a few more flowers and then decided it was long enough.

“How do I turn it from a dangly chain into a crown?”

“You just tie the stems at the end to where you started. Yes, something like that.”

They stood up and inspected Thorin’s work. It looked a bit more scraggly than the one on his head, Dwalin thought, but he didn’t mind in the least. 

“I present to you my consort Dwalin Fundinson,” Thorin announced. 

Dwalin turned around to present himself to the empty meadow, face hot. Then he knelt.

“Are you willing to take this oath?”

“I am.”

“Do you promise to rule over this meadow and all its inhabitants as my consort, to help me rule justly and wisely to the best of your capabilities and help protect the realm from all dangers?

“I promise to do all that and help you rule over this meadow, always at your side,” Dwalin replied solemnly, feeling he was somehow giving a greater promise.

“Great!” Thorin set the crown of golden flowers onto Dwalin’s head and smacked a kiss onto his cheek. “Come on, let’s beat Lís and her team at capture the hoard!”

Thorin took Dwalin’s hand and pulled him towards the rise, Dwalin’s cheek burning where Thorin’s lips had touched him. 

“There you are!” little Dís yelled gleefully as she saw them run over the rise. “I was just telling Lís she had to wait until you are there before choosing teams. Oh, you look pretty!”

She ran over to inspect their crowns.

“Can I have a crown too?” she asked.

Thorin contemplated for a moment and the nodded. “I suppose so. You are a princess after all. But let’s play capture the hoard first.”

The other dwarflings came over too. 

“That doesn’t look very dwarvish. Are you stupid elves to wear flowers?” Rógvi, Lís’s little brother asked.

“No,” Dís protested. “ _You’re_ stupid! Can’t you see that’s gold, not flowers?” 

“If I’m wearing it, it’s a dwarven crown, not an elven one,” Thorin declared. “And now let’s choose teams for the game.”

Lís nodded and they began choosing the dwarflings for their team. Then the game began. In the end, Thorin and Dwalin’s team lost. Dwalin supposed he could have run faster and paid more attention, but he had always kept in mind that he didn’t want his crown to fall off his head. And his crown felt more special than winning one game anyway.

 

There had been some discussion about the crown. Dwalin hadn’t been sure if it was fitting given recent events. In the end, Balin had convinced him. A king needed a crown and at least, this one wasn’t made from gold.

They diverged from protocol in a different way instead. It was custom that the oldest member of the house of Durin that was present, in this case Balin, led the ceremony and conducted the crowning. Dwalin was more than happy to let him do the talking, but they all agreed that the crowning would be Dwalin’s task.

And so it was that when most of the ceremony was over, Dwalin stepped forward and stood beside Balin. He held the stone crown high into the air and with a clear voice that astounded himself, announced his king.  
“King Thorin the Second, son of Thráin, son of Thrór, may you bear this crown with pride in the halls of our fathers.”

He set the crown into its place on the head of the stone tomb.

Following a sudden impulse, Dwalin continued in a voice so quiet nobody in the crowd would be able to hear it.  
“I promise to help you rule over this meadow, always at your side.”


End file.
